Hold On
by Cassidy Blue
Summary: A message from an old friend rocks Andy to the core, dragging him back into a dark past he has worked so hard to forget. As his demons threaten to consume him, can he be saved from himself - or is it already too late?
1. Then Can We Begin

**_DISCLAIMER:_**_ I do not own them, much to my eternal sadness. I am but borrowing them for just a little while. _

**_A/N: _**_Yes, I am back to where my fic-writing first began - Shandy Angst! This is a fairly short multi-chapter which is _almost_ complete before posting (unheard of for me!). All the chapters should be up in fairly rapid succession, hopefully within the next 24 hours or so._

_Unfortunately, I somehow managed to lose the entire fic as I was getting ready to publish, so I had to re-write it all from memory! Apologies if the quality is subsequently below-par - I tried, but was somewhat frustrated by the whole situation! _

_It was my birthday at the weekend, so this is my gift to all of you. Thank you all for being so great - I really hope you enjoy this. Please, please do let me know your thoughts - I value each and every one._

_All mistakes are mine alone._

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><p><strong><em>CHAPTER ONE :: Then Can We Begin<em>**

The tap on her office door was far more gentle than his usual heavier knock, but Sharon Raydor still recognised it as belonging to Andy Flynn. She looked up from the file she was reading as he entered, the bright smile she usually wore at his arrival freezing in place as soon as she took in his demeanour. His shoulders were slumped and he wore a stricken expression on his handsome face that immediately struck fear into her heart.

"Andy, what is it?" she asked softly, beckoning him further into the room.

He took a deep breath as he closed the door behind him, running a hand through his hair before turning slowly and moving towards the chair that was placed in front of her desk. Sharon was already on her feet, closing the blinds to offer him some privacy before coming to stand in front of him, leaning against the large desk as she waited for him to speak.

Andy seemed to wrestle with his words for a few moments before finally looking up at her, his dark eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"I'm going to need to take a few days off, Captain…"

He didn't continue, just bowed his head again, his hands twisting together in his lap, betraying his agitation. She was really concerned, now. Kneeling down in front of him, Sharon took his hands in both of hers, holding them still as she looked up at him. Her thumbs stroked the backs of his hands in a calming rhythm.

"What's going on?"

"I have to go back east." His voice was barely above a whisper now. "An old friend called. He has end-stage liver disease…he doesn't have long left and he…" Andy choked back a sob. "He wants to see me…before…"

He closed his eyes then, a tear escaping and rolling slowly down his face. Sharon lifted a hand and caught it with her thumb, touching her palm to his cheek in comfort as she did so.

"My God," she murmured. "I'm so sorry, honey."

"That's not the worst part." Andy barked out a bitter laugh and she raised an eyebrow at him, confused. He met her questioning gaze, his eyes filled with self-loathing. "The worst part is…" He took a shuddering breath. "The worst part is, I don't want to go."

She smiled sympathetically at him as she finally thought she understood his anguish.

"It's okay," she reassured him quietly. "It's not an easy thing to do. It's natural to feel anxious about it…"

He shook his head at her.

"No, that's not it, Sharon. I _want_ to see him. We were good friends once. It's the right thing to do - to say goodbye."

"Okay…" She laid a hand against his face again lightly and he leaned in to her touch, seeming to draw strength from her. "Then why don't you want to go?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to find the words to explain to her how he felt. Eventually, he managed to choke out the real reason for his anxiety.

"I haven't set foot there since the day I first left, Sharon - and I swore I _never_ would. I don't want to go, because I don't know if I can bear being back in that place again." His gaze was intense as he looked into her beautiful green eyes. "I'm scared, Sharon…"

Now that he had said it out loud, it seemed even more pathetic than it had sounded in his own head. He looked down at his feet, which were shuffling uncomfortably against the floor of her office.

"Why, Andy? What happened?"

As she watched a look of raw pain cross his face, Sharon felt tears pricking her own eyes. Thinking back over the many years she had known this man, she realised that Andy had never spoken about his early life on the east coast. He never mentioned _anything_ that happened before his arrival in California. The hole in his past suddenly seemed huge and she wondered why she had never noticed it before.

"I can't." His voice shook and he looked completely broken as his eyes begged her not to press the issue. "I'm sorry, Sharon. I just can't…"

Rising slowly to her feet, Sharon perched on the edge of her desk once more. She held her hands out for him and he took hold of them, coming to stand in front of her. Immediately, she slipped her arms around his waist, pulling him nearer still. His expression had changed to one of bewilderment at her actions - she always insisted on keeping displays of affection out of the office, for many and obvious reasons. In this instance, however, she decided that he needed her touch more than she needed to adhere to her own policy. She smiled reassuringly up at him as his warmth surrounded her, and he rested his hands on her shoulders, his fingers absently playing with the silky strands of her pretty brunette hair - it was a habit of his that she secretly loved.

Laying her head on his chest, Sharon sighed inwardly as she wondered how to tackle this unexpected and obviously painful situation. She wished he would talk to her about whatever was causing him so much anguish, but she knew from experience that Andy could not be pushed. Trying to force him to open up would only have the opposite effect, she knew. She would have to wait, let him talk to her when he was ready. In the meantime, there had to be something that she could do to help him through this…

Quickly formulating a plan, Sharon decided that the best thing to do for him now was to take control. He was lost and he needed someone to guide him - and _that_ she could certainly do. Her decision was reinforced when she lifted her head to look at him once more and found his cheeks wet with tears.

"It's alright, Andy." She leaned in to him, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. "Everything will be alright. I promise."

"I'm sorry…" he started, but she hushed him with another quick kiss, before hopping down from her perch on the desk.

"I have a couple of errands to run." Sharon squeezed his shoulder supportively as she moved past him. "Stay here for a bit, get yourself together."

He threw her a grateful - if rather watery - smile before she turned and left the office, pulling the door closed behind her. Ignoring the questioning glances of the rest of her team - most noticeably Provenza, who threw a pointed look at her office door when his partner failed to emerge - she left the murder room, heading determinedly towards Assistant Chief Taylor's office.

* * *

><p>Russell Taylor's expression was unreadable as Sharon stood in front of his desk, and she began to wonder if he had even heard what she had just said to him.<p>

"I know I said at the beginning that our relationship wouldn't affect our work," she continued quickly. "And that is still the case, Sir, but I can't just let him…"

Taylor held a hand up to stop her.

"It's alright, Captain. Of course you should go - I'd think less of you if you hadn't wanted to."

Now it was Sharon's turn to stare blankly. Did he really just agree to this with no argument? Where was the anger, the sarcasm, the thinly-veiled contempt that she was so used to? Not that she was ungrateful for his surprisingly accommodating attitude, but she was sure there must be a catch somewhere.

"Obviously, if something happens and I'm needed here, I'll come right back…"

"Sharon." He halted her speech again. "Where you are needed right now is with Lieutenant Flynn. Provenza and I can manage things here for a few days, I'm sure."

Sharon almost cringed just thinking about _that_.

"Still, I…"

"Go, Captain." He said firmly. "Be with Flynn." He couldn't hide his smile at the look of shock that she had failed to keep from her face. "Look, Captain - we may not always get along, but we always look after our own. Consider this my way of doing that."

She still wasn't completely convinced, but she decided to take what she could get and deal with the consequences later. Besides, it was only a few weeks before Christmas - maybe this was just Taylor's own special brand of goodwill…

"Thank you, Sir," she murmured, heading for the door before the man could change his mind.

"I'll see you in a few days," he smiled. "And Captain…"

"Yes, Chief?" Here it came, Sharon thought. The catch that she had been waiting for.

"Safe journey."

Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Um, thank you, Chief Taylor…" Sharon offered him a small wave and a bewildered expression as she left his office, closing the door firmly behind her on what had to be the oddest conversation she'd had all year.

* * *

><p>Entering her office, Sharon found Andy seated once more in the chair before her desk. He was vaguely flicking through one of the reports from their last case, more for something to occupy his hands than out of any desire to actually read it. He looked up as she entered and she moved to stand behind him, squeezing his shoulders as she dropped a kiss on the top of his head. He tossed the file onto her desk and leaned back in response, covering one of her hands with his own and lacing their fingers together, before bringing their joined hands to his lips and tenderly kissing her palm.<p>

"The flight to New York leaves first thing tomorrow morning," Sharon informed him softly, running her fingers through his hair. "Gavin knows someone at the airline, he's managed to arrange an upgrade for us."

"That's…great." Andy swallowed hard. Apparently he was really doing this. "Wait…" Her words had suddenly registered with him. "…_us_?"

She moved around in front of him before sitting once more on her desk.

"Of course _us_," she smiled. "You didn't really think I'd let you do this alone, did you?"

His grateful smile told her all she needed to know - this had definitely been the right call, whatever price she may have to pay with Taylor later. Andy stood, placing his hands on either side of her face and kissing her hard.

"Thank you," he whispered, his forehead briefly touching hers before he pulled back and turned, heading for the exit. He paused with his hand on the door handle and Sharon nodded at him, suddenly overcome with emotion herself.

Whatever the next few days may have in store for them, she was sure they could get through it together.

* * *

><p>Placing her small suitcase by the front door, Sharon sighed deeply. She was spending the night with Andy so that they could leave together for the airport in the morning. They had an early start, so being in the same place made sense. If she were being completely truthful with herself, she also wanted to make sure that he was alright - and leaving him alone for the night did not seem like the best option for ensuring his emotional wellbeing. At least with her there, he would have support if he needed it.<p>

And she had a feeling that he _would_ need it.

Pasting what she hoped was a convincingly bright smile on her face, Sharon turned to face her youngest son, who was hovering beside her, obviously concerned about the unfolding events.

"So," she said quickly. "I'll text you when we're leaving in the morning, and again when we get there."

Rusty rolled his eyes and nodded.

"I know, Sharon. We've been over this."

He grinned at her, not really annoyed. Truth be told, he rather liked having someone in his life who cared enough to fuss over him like this.

"And if you need anything…"

"I'll call Lieutenant Provenza, or Buzz, or Lieutenant Tao. But I won't need anything, Sharon. You don't need to worry about me."

"I know."

But she did, anyway. She smiled at him again, the warmth finally reaching her eyes, and her heart constricted with the love she felt for this boy. _Her_ boy.

"You just go and take care of Flynn, okay?"

Rusty's concern was genuine. He had grown to care a great deal for Andy in the last few months, particularly since he and Sharon had started dating. He made Sharon happy which, in turn, made Rusty happy. They may appear to be an odd little family unit from the outside, but it worked for them - and there was real affection there.

"I will do my best."

Sharon's smile faltered as she ruffled his hair with her fingertips, and she swallowed hard in an attempt to keep her emotions at bay long enough to get out of the condo without worrying her son. Unfortunately, she had forgotten just how perceptive Rusty could be when he wanted to.

He studied her for a moment, as if wondering whether to pose the question that was playing on his mind. Eventually, he decided that it couldn't hurt to ask.

"Why is he so afraid of going back there, Sharon?"

She paused, surprised that he had enquired so directly - and not entirely sure how to answer him.

"I don't know," she replied honestly. "But he'll talk about it when he's ready."

As Rusty's arms came around her in a tight hug, she could only hope that those words would prove to be true.


	2. One Heart Hurt Another

**_A/N:_**_ Apologies for the delay in posting - I know, I'm useless. You should be used to it by now, really! In my defence, there seems to be some kind of conspiracy against me getting this fic uploaded in one piece - but I shall _not_ be deterred. Just delayed, apparently._

_Content warning for profanity in this chapter. Not a lot, but enough to mention :)_

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><p><strong><em>CHAPTER TWO :: One Heart Hurt Another<em>**

It had been late afternoon when Andy and Sharon finally arrived at their Brooklyn hotel after a long day spent travelling - far too late for hospital visiting. Instead, they had simply relaxed in their room, ordering something to eat before turning in for the night. Andy's mood had been sombre all day and he was still resolutely refusing to talk about whatever it was that had him so worked up about coming back to New York.

Not that his behaviour was cold - far from it, he was as sweet and caring towards Sharon as always. There was a distance about him, though - as if he had become emotionally guarded. It was so unlike him that Sharon couldn't help but be concerned by it. His lack of communication worried her more than she would let on to him. He would usually have opened up by now, and she found herself wondering what could possibly be so terrible that he couldn't bring himself to mention it at all - even to her.

_Especially_ to her.

* * *

><p>That had been yesterday.<p>

Standing on the Fifth Avenue sidewalk now, Andy took a deep breath as he glanced up at the modern-looking façade of Mount Sinai Hospital. He and Sharon had shared a cab from the hotel to Manhattan's Upper East Side, and though she had offered to come with him to the hospital, he had managed to persuade her to go shopping instead. He knew that it wasn't often she was able to spend a whole day indulging her love of high-end fashion stores and he figured it was the least he could do for her, as she had come all this way with him. Besides, this visit was really something that he needed to face alone. As they parted ways, they agreed to meet back at the hotel later.

Making his way slowly through the hospital now, towards the ward where his friend was being cared for, Andy felt the decades falling away from him. As he walked, he felt less like the senior LAPD detective he was, and more like the naive, devastated teenager he had been the last time he was in this city - it was a feeling he didn't relish one bit.

After enquiring at the nurses' station as to his friend's location, Andy headed along a brightly-lit corridor, coming to a stop outside a room to his left. The name on the door told him this was indeed where he needed to be.

'_Daniel Malone_'

Danny.

His friend.

Clearing his throat and forcing a smile onto his face, Andy knocked once and pushed open the door, trying to ignore the tight knot of anxiety that was festering in the pit of his stomach. Entering the small room, he was taken aback by the sight that greeted him.

Instead of the strong, handsome high school kid he remembered, the man in the bed was frail and tired. His skin was jaundiced, his face lined, and the clear green eyes that Andy remembered were dulled by years of pain and sickness.

The pervasive anxiety that he had felt since he realised he would be coming back to this place was instantly replaced by a deep-seated compassion for the man who had once been his very best friend. Immediately, he regretted not being here sooner - not being able to support Danny through what must be the lowest point of his life.

"Hey."

Andy spoke softly, closing the door behind him as the figure in the bed turned his head to face his visitor.

"_Andy_." Danny's voice was hoarse and his eyes filled with tears as he saw his friend for the first time in more than three decades. "You came."

"Of course I came," Andy smiled.

He watched as the other man's face crumpled, his eyes wet as he looked up from the bed. Holding a shaking hand out to Andy, he spoke again in a voice that creaked with the effort of being used.

"I did it, Andy. It was me. I'm the one."

Andy frowned, confused.

"You did what, buddy?"

Andy moved over to the bed, settling himself in the nearest chair and studying his old friend closely as he took his hand. He really looked nothing like the boy that Andy remembered - but then, he supposed they were all getting old. Nothing they could do about that. He looked around at the machines surrounding Danny's bed. The guy must be out of his mind on pain meds, Andy decided - he certainly wasn't making any sense.

Until, suddenly, he did.

"I did it," Danny tried again, more insistent this time. "I killed Abby."

Andy's blood ran cold. He dropped Danny's hand back to the bed as the room began to spin around him. The knot was back in his stomach at the mere sound of her name, clenching at his insides until he couldn't breathe.

This was it: The reason he had never wanted to return to New York. The spectre from his past that never quite went away, however hard he tried to forget.

The name that he swore would never leave his lips again.

Abby.

* * *

><p>The Christmas lights adorning the whole of Fifth Avenue twinkled down at Sharon as she stood motionless on the sidewalk, breathing in the crisp December air that was so different from the warmth of Los Angeles. The bustle of people hurrying around her only seemed to intensify her feeling of isolation, and she found herself wishing that she had insisted on accompanying Andy to the hospital instead of allowing him to talk her into a day spent idly shopping. Gazing up at the sky, she noticed a pale - almost ethereal - hue, that hinted at the possibility of snow later.<p>

The whole experience would have been magical, if not for the reason behind her presence in this city - and the nagging worry about the man she had accompanied here that refused to leave her alone.

* * *

><p>Trembling, Andy stood with his back against the wall of Danny's hospital room, his dark eyes wide with disbelief.<p>

"You don't know what you're saying," he muttered, shaking his head. He ran a hand raggedly through his hair.

"I do, Andy. I do know - and now I need you to know, too."

"You're crazy."

"No, Andy. I'm dying, but I'm not crazy." Danny's pale eyes were haunted, but contained an unmistakeable clarity as they steadfastly held Andy's gaze. There was no confusion there - only truth. "Please, let me tell you what really happened that night."

The small part of his mind that was still operating as a police officer suddenly made Andy realise what he needed to do. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone with disconcertingly numb fingers. Pressing the button which set the device to record the conversation, he sat stiffly in the chair beside the bed.

"Okay," he responded, his tone flat. "Tell me."

Danny nodded, and began to speak in his dry, halting voice…

"She looked so beautiful that night, Andy. Do you remember?"

Of course he remembered.

She had been wearing a simple, white sun dress which accentuated the suntan she had picked up in her after-school job at Central Park Zoo. Her long, dark hair was swept up in a simple ponytail and the minimal makeup she wore brought out the depth in her large, cornflower-blue eyes.

Around her neck was the simple, silver crucifix that Andy had given her for their one-year anniversary the week before. As they left for the party at his baseball team-mate's house, he presented her with a small, pink teddy bear. He had meant to give it to her along with the necklace, but had forgotten. The way her eyes lit up at the gift and the smile she gave him more than made up for that, though.

The eighteen-year-old Andy Flynn honestly thought he had never seen anything lovelier.

"I knew that night that I loved her." Andy was drawn back to the present by Danny's voice. As their eyes met, the sick man's tone turned bitter. "But of course, she was with you. Because why would _anyone_ want Danny when they could have Andy, right?"

"What happened?"

Andy's voice was a whisper. He hardly dared to ask the question. He didn't know if he could stand to hear the answer, but it was too late now. Danny had started this and now, he needed to know everything.

"She came into the kitchen looking for you," Danny started, his eyes taking on a faraway look as he lost himself in the memory. "And she smiled at me. Flirted…"

Andy's eyes narrowed and he felt his temper rise.

"_Flirted_? You mean she was nice to you? Like she was nice to everyone, because that's just who she was!"

Danny ignored the outburst.

"She asked where you were and I knew that you were outside with the other guys from the team, but…something stopped me from telling her that. I suddenly thought, if I could just get her alone, maybe I could tell her how I felt about her. Maybe she would feel the same way." Danny swallowed hard. "So, I lied. I told her you left. I told her that you asked me to walk her home and she just came right along with me. She didn't even question it…"

Pushing his chair back violently, Andy started pacing the length of the small room as Danny watched him intently.

"What did you do, Danny?" Andy spun around to face the bed, before marching furiously towards it. Grabbing the other man's throat, Andy leaned down until their faces were mere centimetres apart. "_What the fuck did you do?_"

"We were walking through the park," Danny spoke quickly, shrinking away from Andy's rage. "I told her how I felt about her - how I'd always felt about her. She smiled again, and I thought that it was really going to happen, she was going to tell me she loved me, too." His face darkened. "But then she apologised. She told me she hadn't meant to give me the wrong impression, but that she loved _you_." He glared defiantly at Andy, despite the larger man's fingers still at his throat. "It wasn't fair, Andy. You could have had any girl you wanted. Why did you have to want _her_?" He shook his head. "Why did _she_ have to want _you_?" He dropped his gaze, lost in his torturous memory now. "I just snapped. I don't remember exactly what happened, but when I came back to my senses I was standing over her and she was dead." He lifted his eyes to meet Andy's. "I'd killed her."

The memory of Abby smiling and laughing as they left for the party was instantly replaced by another, horrific image - the last image he ever had of her. Her body was laying bruised and abandoned in the park, eyes open and her neck obviously broken. Her dress was pushed up and her underwear was gone. In her hand, she clutched a tiny, pink bear.

The police had shown him the picture when they interrogated him the next morning - as her boyfriend he was a suspect, although his alibi was strong. Andy knew from his own experience how effective an image like that could be in forcing a suspect to break, but oh, God, how he wished he could erase that picture from his mind. For months afterward when he closed his eyes - when he tried to remember Abby - that awful photograph was all he could see.

Suddenly, Andy's vision turned red. His fingers tightened around Danny's throat even as the weaker man thrashed and struggled for air. He watched Danny's eyes widen in panic, pleading with him to let him go, but he couldn't. He increased the pressure, unable to stop himself now.

All at once, another image flashed before Andy's eyes.

_Sharon_.

With a roar, he released his hold on Danny's throat. As the other man coughed and spluttered, trying to force air into his lungs, Andy braced himself against the wall. He rested his head against the cool surface and willed himself to calm down - at least enough to not kill the guy before he had all the answers he needed.

* * *

><p>As she browsed the many and varied department store window displays, Sharon couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.<p>

At any other time, she would have relished Christmas shopping - especially in New York - but today, she just couldn't seem to relax. She certainly wasn't anywhere near to enjoying herself, however much she tried. Even a good hour spent in the Armani store hadn't lifted her spirits much - a clear indicator that there was definitely something amiss. Her heart just wasn't in this today. It was with _him_, instead.

Suddenly, she would give anything to be back in Los Angeles with Andy and her team, trying to solve some impossible crime or other. Anything, other than being here, now, like this. Anything other than feeling so helplessly alone, unable to do a damn thing to help the man she loved.

* * *

><p>Andy sat on the floor with his back against the wall, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His cheeks were wet with tears he hadn't even realised he had cried.<p>

"What the fuck do you want from me?" Andy spat at his former friend. "Why did you ask me to come here?"

"I needed you to know," Danny said simply, rubbing his throat. "Before it was too late. I needed you to forgive me."

"Forgive you?!" Andy jumped to his feet, fury turning his insides to granite. "You want absolution, asshole? After what you did?" Andy snarled. "Call a fucking priest! You won't find any from me."

He turned and pulled the door open with such force that it hit the wall, a loud bang echoing along the deserted corridor outside. With one final look at the pathetic creature in the bed by the window, Andy turned and strode quickly away.

* * *

><p>Checking her phone for what must have been the hundredth time that afternoon and still finding no message from Andy, Sharon finally gave up. She sighed and walked out of the small boutique that she had been half-heartedly scouring. It was time to admit defeat.<p>

Hailing a cab, Sharon climbed in and placed the few bags she had managed to accrue on to the seat next to her. Directing the driver to the hotel, she hummed in disappointment at the way the day had turned out.

She was probably completely overreacting. There was surely nothing to be concerned about at all - he was only visiting an old friend. Still…at least this way she would be at the hotel soon, just in case he needed her…

* * *

><p>Andy stormed through the front entrance and into the lobby of the hotel. He had no idea where he was headed, his mind so consumed with anger, hatred and revulsion that he seemed to have lost control of his other senses completely. Instinct took over, guiding him back into an all-too-familiar routine without him even noticing.<p>

When he finally came back to himself enough to study his surroundings, he realised that he was seated on a stool at the hotel bar - a large glass of bourbon set on the wooden counter in front of him.

He studied the amber liquid intently. It seemed to mock him, tormenting him with its very presence, enticing him in to its warm embrace.

With shaking fingers, Andy reached out and touched the rim of the glass, before lifting it to his nose. He breathed in the familiar aroma, closing his eyes as his mind was overtaken with unwanted memories - thoughts that he knew this enchanting liquid would be able to remove from him, at least for a while.

He could almost taste it already and he ached to have the strong flavour on his lips, to feel the burn in his throat and the warmth flooding through him, giving him the relief that only alcohol could bring.

All he needed was one drink. A taste. A sip, just to take the edge off this indescribable pain that was tearing at his very soul. Just one sip to help him forget.

Almost twenty years of sobriety seemed to melt away in a heartbeat. What did it even matter any more?

With a trembling hand, Andy raised the glass to his lips.


End file.
